[color=#EDE6E3][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/Sds8TeY.png[/img][/center] [color=#9D7A80]Time:[/color] The Witching Hour, Sola 28th [color=#9D7A80]Location:[/color] Middle of the forest [color=#9D7A80]Interactions:[/color] [color=#9D7A80]Attire:[/color] [hr] [Center][b][color=red]FLASHBACK TO THE WITCHING HOUR OF SOLA 28th[/color][/b][/center] The clearing was alive with flickering green fire, its eerie glow casting twisted shadows against the gnarled trees. Five figures stood around it, cloaked and hooded. Their hands wove intricate patterns in the air, whispering words that should never be spoken aloud. The magic pooled between them, tendrils of sickly luminescence twisting like roots in search of something to latch onto. [color=lightsalmon]“This will be our last ritual before the next shipment,”[/color] one of them muttered, his voice a rasp beneath his hood. [color=lightsalmon]“There’s been too many disturbances. We need the ships protected at any cost.”[/color] A woman–slighter than the others, but with an air of quiet authority–tossed a handful of crushed bone into the flames. The green fire flared, consuming it greedily. [color=plum]“Work faster,”[/color] she replied sharply. [color=plum]“The girl in the city is close to breaking. If we apply more pressure, she’ll submit. Once she does, we’ll use them and the others to complete the spell.”[/color] The youngest of the group shifted uneasily. [color=springgreen]“Are you sure this is necessary? These people—they aren’t bad people. They’re parents, children. Is all this really worth-”[/color] His words cut off with a sharp gasp as the leader turned on him, fingers clenching the air. The boy’s body went rigid, lifted off the ground by invisible force, his breath strangled in his throat. [color=lightsalmon]“Question us again,”[/color] the leader hissed, [color=lightsalmon]“and you will be the next to feed the flame.”[/color] The boy’s body was released, and he collapsed to the ground, coughing, rubbing his throat. No one else spoke. The ritual continued. The flames darkened, deepening from green to black, flickering with an unnatural hunger. The symbols carved into the forest floor pulsed with energy, waiting for the last phrase, the final drop of power that would open the way. A twig snapped. The youngest turned, uneasy. [color=springgreen]“Someone’s watching us.”[/color] The leader barely spared him a glance. [color=lightsalmon]“Then let them watch. Soon, they will be part of something greater.”[/color] A shadow dropped from the trees. Tall. Graceful. Wrapped in furs and leathers, a sword strapped to her back. Silver hair caught in the unnatural firelight, and golden eyes gleamed like those of a predator reflecting moonlight. Torvi Jorviksdottir stepped into the clearing, hands empty, posture loose. There was no fear in her face. Only interest. [color=#9D7A80]“Well,”[/color] she drawled, glancing at the ritual in progress. [color=#9D7A80]“Do not let me stop you. Looks like you have put a lot of work into this.”[/color] The cultists tensed, fingers twitching toward weapons and spells. The leader narrowed his eyes. [color=lightsalmon]“Who are you?”[/color] She tilted her head, inhaling deeply. [color=#9D7A80]“That is a lot of magic for so few of you. And… blood magic? Bold.”[/color] Her eyes landed on the youngest, who still rubbed his throat from his earlier punishment. [color=#9D7A80]“That one does not smell confinced.”[/color] The boy flinched. The leader straightened. [color=lightsalmon]“You should not be here.”[/color] His gaze flickered toward his acolytes. [color=lightsalmon]“She’ll do.”[/color] Torvi lifted a brow. [color=#9D7A80]“I will do? Do what, exactly?”[/color] [color=lightsalmon]“You are strong. More than most, it appears. That makes you a fine offering.”[/color] A smirk curled at the corner of Torvi’s lips. [color=#9D7A80]“An offering. How flattering.”[/color] The woman beside the leader stepped forward, hands weaving a spell. [color=plum]“Bind her.”[/color] The shadows around the clearing slithered, reaching like grasping fingers, the air thickening with oppressive force. A sigil flared beneath Torvi’s feet, glowing with crimson power, designed to hold, to drain, to subdue. The cultists watched, waiting for her to collapse, to be reduced to another sacrifice bound to their will. Torvi chuckled as she watched the sigil at her feet, one hand toying with a necklace around her neck. She then rolled her shoulders as if shaking off a chill. The sigil flickered. Then died. Silence fell. The leader frowned. [color=lightsalmon]“That’s not–”[/color] [color=#9D7A80]“Possible?”[/color] Torvi finished for him and shook her head in disappointment, letting out a sigh. [color=#9D7A80]“Always. You witches always think you are all powerful. Cocky. Foolish.”[/color] From the other side of the group came a snarl as Fenrys stepped into the clearing now. The young kid in the group let out a frightened sound as he looked at the large wolf. He looked like he was ready to bolt, but to his credit he stayed put. [color=#9D7A80]“You forget you are only mortal.”[/color] Torvi moved. Faster than their eyes could follow. One moment she stood within the dying sigil. The next, her boot connected with the spellcaster’s chest. Bones cracked, and the woman flew backward, colliding with a tree so hard the bark split. The others barely had time to react before Fenrys was among them, a flash of black fur and snapping teeth. The youngest turned to run. A hand shot out, seizing him by the throat. Torvi lifted him off the ground with unnatural ease, golden eyes burning, pupils blown wide. She inhaled again, slow, savoring. [color=#9D7A80]“You reek of fear.”[/color] The boy’s hands clawed at hers. [color=springgreen]“P-please–”[/color] [color=#9D7A80]“It is a shame, really. So young, so much life still ahead.”[/color] Her other hand reached up and gently caressed his face. [color=#9D7A80]“Tell me, little one, who put you on this path? Tell me, and I will set you free.”[/color] Her voice was soft, almost tender, the brush of her fingers deceptively gentle against his cheek. Did she really mean it, he wondered? Was mercy still an option? [color=springgreen]“T-the Black Rose.”[/color] He finally whispered, hope shining in his eyes, but Torvi did not let him go. [color=#9D7A80]“Thank you, little one. May the gods grant you mercy and welcome you with open arms into their halls.”[/color] She watched the fear rush back into his eyes once again. [color=springgreen]“B-but you sai–”[/color] [i]CRACK![/i] His voice was cut short as she crushed his windpipe, snapping the bones in his neck. A flick of her wrist sent him crashing into the ground. He did not rise. The leader raised his hands, magic crackling between his fingers. [color=lightsalmon]“You–what are you?”[/color] Torvi turned toward him, tilting her head, considering. The shadows danced across her features, sharpening the angles of her face into something almost… inhuman. [color=#9D7A80]“You tried to make me prey.”[/color] A slow smile. [color=#9D7A80]“That was your first mistake.”[/color] The leader unleashed his spell–black fire meant to consume. The necklace she toyed with earlier flared brightly, countering the spell. Torvi stepped through it. The air shimmered around her as the flames licked at her skin but did nothing, parting as though unwilling to touch her. She was already in front of him before he could utter another word, her fingers curling around his wrist. A sickening crack. He screamed. Torvi yanked him forward, so close he could see the sharpness in her eyes, the breath of something [i]other[/i] behind them. [color=#9D7A80]“Your second mistake?”[/color] She murmured. She leaned in, voice almost a whisper. [color=#9D7A80]“Thinking I was merely human.”[/color] The last thing he saw was her smile before the world went black. The clearing was silent again. Torvi exhaled, rolling her neck. Fenrys padded back to her side, muzzle stained red. She ruffled his fur absently. [color=#9D7A80]“Well, that was fun.”[/color] The black flames guttered out. The sigils lost their glow. The night reclaimed the clearing. The hunt was over.[/color]